Into Infinity
by G. S. tol Kriaal
Summary: I used to be normal... ish, at least. Then I started dimension hopping. In my sleep. Yeah, it's as weird as it sounds. And this is only the beginning.
1. Prologue

I used to be a pretty normal guy – which isn't to say I was normal, far from it, I was _crazy_. Not like clinically insane or anything, but definitely a little off my rocker. What I mean is that my life was pretty normal; I was in a middle class family, I went to school, got good grades, sometimes did some extracurricular stuff – hell, the most exciting thing that ever happened was when accidentally blew up the chem lab – and really, doesn't _everyone_ do that? But that all changed for me, not too long ago.

I had just gone to bed – it was a Friday, thank the gods – and I was looking forward to the weekend [SUFFER, PEONS! SUFFER! If you don't get it don't worry]. As I lay in bed, not really caring whether or not I got to sleep anytime soon, I couldn't help but think back to the strange occurrence I'd witnessed earlier: a lone shooting star, the first one I'd seen, aside from the Perseids. But even stranger was the fact that it seemed to pause in its flight, as would a helicopter looking for something, before continuing on. And I suppose that it was while I was pondering this that I fell asleep.

* * *

_Fantastic creatures locked in combat, acting on shouted commands from unseen humans; an enormous gate in an infinite white void, opening to admit a small boy; enormous monsters fighting in a city in the dead of night, civilians looking on in awe; a green-clad youth striking down a dark tyrant; a snakelike man striking a red-haired woman with a bolt of green light; a monstrous fox tearing through a forest before being snatched by a ghostly hand; the death of an idol, ending one era and beginning another; a horde of robots clearing out forests at the will of their selfish master; and countless other critical moments throughout the infinite realms of Fiction._

_And in the middle of this maelstrom of worlds, standing tall amongst the chaos, was me._

'What a strange dream,'_ my dream-self thought._

_I found it hard to disagree._


	2. In Which a Setting is Established

I was startled awake by the loud and obnoxious sound of synthesized bird calls.

"Whatthefuck!" I cried, tumbling from my bed. I hit the ground much sooner than I expected, though, and after silencing the infernal din, looked around a room that, despite not being my own, was quite familiar.

There were posters of Pokemon plastered onto the walls, a Grimer figurine placed next to the Voltorb-shaped clock on the bedside table, and various other Pokemon-themed paraphernalia.

"Whoa," I said, thinking aloud, "this looks exactly like Ash's room from the first episode of Po –" My speech stopped dead in its tracks, allowing me to process the ramifications of completing that thought. "Oh gods," I said quietly. "Ohgodohgodohgod." I pinched myself to ensure my wakefulness; it hurt.

"If there was ever a time to panic," I muttered, letting the thought trail off. But rather than panicking, I calmly and rationally listed out the possibilities. "Possibility one, which I don't particularly like but is better than some of the others: this is all just a dream, in which case I should enjoy myself until I wake up.

"Possibility the second: the universe hiccuped, or something, and I got misplaced, in which case I have to find a way to get home, but should enjoy myself in the meantime.

"Possibility C: I have finally gone well and truly crazy and this is all a hallucination, in which case I will soon be locked up if I haven't been already, and I may as well enjoy myself.

"Possibility Delta: my consciousness was somehow transferred into someone else's body, in another dimension, in which case I need to fix that, but in the meantime I may as well enjoy myself.

"Possibility the next one: I'm dead, and this is the afterlife, in which case I may as well enjoy myself.

"So," I decided, "my first priority should be to somehow discover which of these is true and adjust my actions accordingly." Before I had time to wonder how to go about doing that, a voice from somewhere below me called out.

"Skyle! If you don't hurry up you're going to be late!" it said.

"Oh, shit!" I exclaimed quietly. "I don't wanna be stuck with an uncooperative zap-happy rat!" With that in mind, I quickly dressed myself in a set of clothes that had been laid out, pausing briefly to take in my appearance. I had on a short-sleeved medium-grey jacket over a plain black tank top, lightweight black pants with green stripes on the outside of the legs, and white sneakers with red toes and heels that gave me a vague sense of copyright infringement as I put them on. To complete the ensemble, I grabbed a pair of bulky black headphones with green tribal dragon designs on the earpieces on my way out of the room and slung them around my neck.

I then went down the stairs and, as though I'd done it a thousand times, hurdled myself over the last stretch of banister, detoured through the kitchen to grab a piece of toast that had just popped, which I then stuck in my mouth, grabbed a black messenger bag with a green tribal dragon on the front, and, slinging the bag onto my shoulder, left the house at a run.

'_How did I know that would work?_' I pondered as I began chewing the toast in my mouth. I resolved to think about it later as I rounded the corner onto Professor Oak's long walkway –

Smack-dab into another person, causing me to fall backwards to the ground, dropping my meager breakfast in the process. "Crap, my toast," I said somewhat dully.

"I think you have more important things to worry about than your toast, twerp," said the obstacle in a snarky tone. I looked up slowly, seeing plain brown shoes, blue jeans, a long-sleeved purple shirt, and a green-and-yellow yin yang pendant before coming face-to-face with the biggest douchebag/asshole of my childhood.

"Blue…" I growled out quietly, trying to compose myself as I got to my feet. Under normal circumstances I would have countered with a witty remark, but the best I could come up with in my pissed-off mindset was, "You are such a prick."

"Hah," he laughed. "You're just jealous 'cuz _I've_ got the best Pokemon," he said, shoving his brand-spanking-new Pokeball in my face.

I glared at him dangerously. "Gary Oak, I swear to Arceus, if you don't get your hand out of my face in _five seconds_ I will _bite it off_," I said; I could practically feel my green eyes glinting with rage.

He recoiled as if I followed through on my threat, clutching his hand as though to ensure it was still there. "You're _crazy_," he said, shooting me a half-hearted glare.

I smirked, having developed numerous comebacks to such an accusation long ago. "We've known each other all our lives and you only just noticed?" I asked tauntingly.

"Whatever," he said, regaining his air of cool uncaring. "We'll see if you're still so cocky when I'm Champion." He turned to leave. "Later, loser," he quipped. [1] As he walked off, I could hear the classic rival theme from the games playing in my head. [End 1]

"How have I not killed him yet?" I wondered aloud as I turned to continue up the path to the lab.

"Killed who?" inquired the suddenly-in-front-of-me Professor Oak.

I paused a moment, thinking. "Um... I'm here for my Pokemon, Professor!" I said with faux excitement, trying to change the subject.

"Nice try," the old man said, "but I'm not senile yet."

"Darn," I said. "Can I get my Pokemon anyway?" I asked, trying again.

The professor looked at me with a deadpan stare. "You're not going to give this up, are you?" he asked. I shook my head, smiling broadly. Oak turned his eyes skyward. "Fine," he said, sighing. "You'd better come in, then."

He led me up the rest of the walkway and through the entry hall, which was clearly part of his home, and into the lab proper. It was more spacious than one would have thought from the show, and had many dozens of computers (not screens) lining one of the walls, presumably to store all the professor's data on Pokemon, and in the far corner was the terminal to access said data. Next to it stood a very complex-looking machine with an uncertain purpose, beside which was a door to Oak's very expansive fenced-in yard, which was a temporary home to more creatures than I cared to count.

But right in front of me was the entire purpose of my visit: the small podium holding three highly polished Pokeballs, each one (hopefully) containing one of the Pokemon I could choose to start my journey with. I reverently approached it, each step leading to the most momentous – and most unlikely – event of my life.

But Oak cut me off.

"Now before you get too excited," he said, obviously choosing his words carefully, "I should let you know that the three regular choices for new trainers have already been taken."

I paused, _looking_ at him.

"What."

"Well, your actually the last one to make it here, so..." The Professor trailed off, leaving me to work out the implications. I think my eye twitched.

"That Charmander better not have been shiny," I growled.

The older man swallowed nervously. "It wasn't," he said, trying to stay calm.

Then I realized something. "Wait, you said the three _regular_ choices were taken. That means there are others?"

Oak seemed calmer, but hesitant. "Well, yes, but –"

"Whaddaya got?" I demanded.

"Well," he began, "I have a Pika –"

"No," I said, perhaps a bit too quickly. "Just a gut feeling," I added as a weak justification.

Surprisingly, the professor nodded in understanding. "A trainer must pay attention to such feelings," he said sagely. "Anyways, I also have a Voltorb, a few Mankeys, and I think a Slugma somewhere..." he trailed off, pondering.

I frowned. The choice was disappointingly limited. "Anything else?" I ventured.

The words seemed to snap the old man out of his reverie, because he turned to me, somewhat nervous. "Well," he started, "there is one more... kind of."

I cocked a brow at that. "'Kind of'?" I repeated incredulously. "What do you mean 'kind of'?"

I must have spooked him, because he hastened to explain. "Well, it's just an egg right now, and I have no idea what's in it, hence, kind of." As he spoke, he opened a cabinet on the wall behind him to reveal said egg.

It was fairly large, about as wide as a basketball and as long as a football, and mostly blue with a few black markings.

'_Yes,'_ said a voice in my head, strangely familiar despite my certainty I'd never heard it before. Deciding to ignore the new evidence against my already-questionable sanity, I said, "Okay, I'll take that."

'_So he hands me the box, an' I open up the lid and these flesh-eating weasels jump out an' latch onto my face and start bitin' me all over.'_ I couldn't help but chuckle at where my mind (or lack thereof) had taken my train of thought. Pushing thoughts of that master of musical parody aside, I stepped toward the egg, still resting in the cabinet, when Oak spoke up.

"Are you sure?" he asked me. "Taking an egg rather than a Pokemon could put you at a serious disadvantage."

I grinned, though I think it might have looked more like a smirk. "Then it'll be that much more impressive when I make Champion," I said. And with that, I reached out to take the egg that would become my first Pokemon. And it would do so much sooner than I thought.

I laid my hand on the egg.

It cracked.


End file.
